


Where Do You Want To Land

by Kanaynays



Category: Cyborg 009
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, listen it's most of the characters but primarily those two so, or rather "what definitely happened afterwards", yet another "time to retcon the ending" fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 02:24:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8603548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanaynays/pseuds/Kanaynays
Summary: Being a 00-Cyborg can mean many things, but above all, it means never having to be alone.





	

Jet still wasn't sure how they made it back.

For a while, there had only been roaring- the deafening rush of wind and heat pushing past his ears as he and Joe hurtled towards the Earth's surface. He'd buried his face in his friend's hair, eyes screwed shut against the onslaught of blinding light, muscles and flesh consumed with a pain so intense he quickly became numb to it in the presence of mortal terror. He clung to the boy as securely as he could and felt Joe tighten his grip in response, mind going blank in calm acceptance before they re-entered the atmosphere.

It was then that they reached him.

A frantic set of instructions and a young woman's voice, desperately screaming Joe's name.

And for all his talk of a worthy sacrifice, if there was a chance they could live Jet was going to take it.

Opening his eyes, he clamped his jaw shut, felt the tell-tale _click_ of acceleration, and _screamed_.

His mind a flurry of thoughts all too brief and panicked to comprehend, Jet activated his rockets, and with the very last of his fuel, redirected their course. As time caught up, he felt Joe jerk in surprise and re-adjusted his grip, clinging to him for dear life as his chest constricted, heart pounding, a ragged sob tearing through his throat. He shut his eyes again.

Joe tightened his hold. He couldn't breathe.

Fire licked at his melting flesh and he felt something snap, realised his legs weren't working.

His mind went silent once more.

They tore through the air still, deaf to the sudden onset of voices frantically calling for them.

Joe started to slip.

Jet couldn't feel his skin.

The Earth grew swiftly closer, and for a brief second, Jet lost consciousness.

He awoke only long enough to register that they were in the ocean, then lost himself once more.

 

* * *

 

Somebody was crying.

. . .

He could feel again. He screamed.

. . . .

Soft voices and warm hands pushed him back and he felt as if he were falling. The inferno consumed him.

. . . . .

Somebody was crying. It was only when he felt a gentle hand upon his wrist that he realised who it was.

. . . .

He woke up.

 

* * *

 

The first time Jet opened his eyes and didn't immediately pass out again it took him a moment to remember why he'd been unconscious at all, and another to recover from the rush of emotions as a result. With tears obscuring his vision he stared at the pale blue ceiling above him and quietly gasped for air, his ribs burning with the motion, and all he could think was _thank God it's not white._

The feeling in his chest grew steadily more painful and he struggled to subdue himself, the last of his gasps dying down just as the rest of his body seemed to catch up with him. Everything hurt. _Everything_ hurt, and briefly he wondered if he'd changed- or rather, _how much_ he'd changed after the fall.

 _Their_ fall.

Gritting his teeth, Jet attempted to turn his head and immediately gave up with a sharp gasp, relaxing back into his pillow and panting heavily. He should have known that wouldn't work- he'd have been surprised if he could move anything at all. Out of reflex he moved to rub his neck and found his arm trapped, though surprisingly it wasn't by bandages or lack of feeling.

Jet's breath hitched. Straining his ears, he caught the steady breathing of more than one person asleep in the room with him, and felt a rush of gratitude and concern. How long had he been asleep? How long had they been in there with him? His attempt at getting somebody's attention only lead to a weak croak and a sore throat and he stopped, swallowed, and reached out with his transmitter instead.

_'. . . Hey, anyone awake?'_

The response was immediate. Ivan's mental presence was a unique thing- it spoke of companionship, of protection, and strength; and was calming to all those who knew him. As Ivan reached out to him, Jet felt an overwhelming sense of relief and the remnants of a long-suffered fear.

 _"Jet!"_ Ivan called, and Jet felt a pang at the use of his name. _"Hold on- we're back at Dr. Kozumi's house, Dr. Gilmore will be with you in a moment."_

There was a pause, and when Ivan spoke next, his tone was undeniably fond.

_"It's good to have you back with us."_

Jet smiled and let out a weak, wheezing laugh before succumbing to a painful coughing fit. His ribs ached and it took no small effort to steady his breathing, but he managed to do so just in time for Gilmore and Francoise, with Ivan in her arms, to come hurrying into the room. Both had drawn, weary expressions, but their signs of fatigue vanished at the sight of him looking back at them.

"002," Francoise breathed before passing Ivan to the professor and rushing to his side. She looked close to tears. "Thank you. Thank you so much, I-" she broke off, her breath hitching. Her hand came to rest shakily on the back of his wrist. "Jet. I'm so glad. I'm just so glad you're alive."

Jet felt a deep warmth blossom in his chest at her words and let out another brief, strained laugh. _'Joe's fine, then?'_ he asked her, and the overwhelming gratitude that arose at her nod threatened to send him into tears again.

"He woke up a little more than a week before you did, 002," Dr. Gilmore explained softly, glancing somewhere to Jet's right with a wry grin. "He's _supposed_ to be resting, but every time I come in here his bed is empty. That chair can't be any more comfortable."

Jet huffed, but any feigned annoyance was ruined by the sheer joy in his tone. _'Is he the reason I can't move my arm?'_

"Well, him and the cast," Gilmore replied, sobering somewhat. "It was a miracle you both survived, particularly with so much of you intact. Since 009's parts are much newer and sturdier than yours are, he didn't suffer too much damage- physically, he's almost completely recovered. You, on the other hand, I'm afraid, needed _much_ more work. You've been asleep for several weeks now while we treated your injuries- as for your legs, they've... we've had to re-build them from scratch. But as soon as they're done, we'll re-attach them and begin physical therapy to adjust to both your new and repaired limbs." Gilmore took a breath and then hesitated, brow furrowing in worry. "That is, with your permission, of course."

It took Jet a moment to realise the doctor was thinking of the incident with Pyuunma and he swallowed, just barely halting himself from shaking his head and hurting himself again. _'Full permission, doctor. Just don't go messing up my stunning physique.'_

"Oh, because you were _such_ an Adonis before the fall, huh?"

Jet started at the new voice and grinned when 004 came into view beside Francoise, looking absolutely haggard. Jet wondered when the last time he'd slept was, and felt Ivan reach out to him once more.

 _"You've been unconscious for a little more than a month,"_ he told him privately. _"I woke only shortly before Joe did, but it seems nobody has slept well since the incident."_

Jet blinked and an image filled his mind- the room, as seen by Ivan, filled with chairs and blankets and the still bodies of his teammates curled against the furniture and one another, breathing steadily. The sight faded before he could put names to forms and he was left looking at Albert again, the man smiling in a way that could have been smug if not for the pure elation in his eyes.

Jet felt like he was going to pass out. Everything was fine. They were safe. They were _all_ safe.

 _'You know me,'_ he responded finally. _'I'm a regular Hercules.'_ A moment passed, and he added quietly, _'One indestructible cyborg.'_

"Jet?"

Jet froze, his breath caught in his throat. Sheets rustling, the bed dipped and levelled out again as Joe came into view; sporting a healthy number of bandages, but otherwise fine. He stared wide-eyed at Jet for a moment before crumpling, laying his head on Jet's chest and clutching at his blanket, releasing a long, heavy sigh.

"You're okay," he whispered, voice shaking. "I can't- you didn't have to-" he broke off with a gasp, grip tightening. _"Jet."_

Jet swallowed against the abrupt well of emotion that surged through him, but it did little to stop the sob that tore from his throat. Vision obscured by tears, he fought the pain of shifting to wind his arm around Joe's back as best he could, near-immobile fingers trembling as he laid his hand between Joe's shoulder blades. He felt Francoise's hand upon his wrist again and Albert's human hand on his hip, and was struck by how glad he was for their company- how grateful he was that he was there, still alive to feel grateful at all. He screwed his eyes shut and revelled in the comforting touches and words of his friends, his family, and marvelled at how good it was to be alive.

Gilmore tried his best to speak more on their recovery but after that it was no use. One by one the rest of the cyborgs awoke, gathering around the bed to offer their support and companionship, laughing and crying and rubbing furiously at red-rimmed eyes all the while. Beaming, an exhausted Gilmore spoke a few quiet words to Francoise before leaving with a nod in Jet's direction, which Jet was privately thankful for. With his family around him, Jet slowly lost consciousness once more.

When Jet finally fell asleep, this time he did it smiling.

 

* * *

 

Things were blurry for a while again after that.

Jet woke up one morning to hushed voices and soft, hitched laughter. Joe's voice reached him, irregular and stuttered and vulnerable and his heart skipped a beat, but then Francoise's gentle words drove the fear away and things were quiet again.

He woke up again to the sound of humming and grinned when he saw Albert, eyes rimmed with dark circles, skin pale and gaunt, smiling at him with such delight it sent a thrill down his spine. His cheeks were wet when he pressed careful lips to Jet's forehead.

He woke to shouting and cackling and the smell of 006's cooking and wondered vaguely what 007 had done _this_ time- before absent-mindedly correcting himself; wondering instead what it was Chang was making for lunch and how GB had managed to piss him off.

He woke up to an empty room and the soothing presence of Ivan's mind and gasped when he turned his head, wincing with pain and overjoyed when he saw clear blue skies outside his window.

It was a while before the pattern fell back into a schedule, when falling asleep wasn't quite so sudden and his bed started to feel confining. With new artificial skin and bones and what little remained of his human self still healing, Jet was finally allowed to leave his room, and while he joked about the professor _taking his sweet time_ , the first time he was lifted from the sheets his hands were shaking. Looking down he grimaced, averting his gaze, still unused to seeing the stumps where his legs used to be. Where his legs were _going_ to be, he amended. At least there was that.

"Are you sure you don't want the wheelchair?" Dr. Kozumi asked, a touch of nervousness in his voice as Gilmore looked on from beside him. Jet shook his head.

"Much as I'd like to," he replied, voice still hoarse, "I don't think I'm ready to move much just yet. The couch is far enough for now." He smirked, fighting a shudder as he pointed to the door and his body screamed in protest. "Onwards, Geronimo!"

The man holding him laughed openly and gingerly adjusted his grip, heading out the door with careful strides so as not to jostle his passenger.

He spent the rest of that week being carried from place to place, ever with somebody by his side. As much as their fussing would usually annoy him, for now he was glad for the company, and anxious to fill silence with noise. It wasn't until two weeks later when he finally accepted the wheelchair presented to him that he felt ready to spend some time in solitude- and it was then that Joe found him leaning with his arms crossed on the balcony overlooking the beach, watching the gentle waves lap at the shore. Standing beside him, Joe did nothing to announce his presence, but from the way he was frowning Jet could tell there was something he wanted to talk about.

Not like he didn't already know what it was. He cast the boy a brief smile and a nod before returning his gaze to the sea, uninclined to break the silence. It wouldn't be long before Joe spoke up anyway. He could practically feel the teenager glancing at him in concern.

". . . How are you feeling?"

There it was. Jet huffed in amusement. "Fine and dandy," he replied, voice still soft. It didn't hurt to speak anymore. "Doctor Gilmore says I should get my new legs in a couple days and a month after that I'm free to get going again. Not forever," he added quickly at Joe's alarmed expression. "Just a week or two to grab some stuff I left in New York and say hi to Jimmy and Cathy. I'm not going anywhere."

Joe let out a sigh of relief which was probably louder than he intended it to be. "I'm glad," he said sincerely. "It's been..." he let out another shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair. "I think... I think I'd like it if we could all stay together. Th- the..." he pursed his lips. "The incident. With the explosion," Jet snorted and Joe couldn't help but grin wryly. After a moment's hesitation, he continued. "Almost dying has me thinking about how much I rely on all of you. Before you- before you got up there, I was... I was _convinced_ I wasn't gonna make it back. I didn't think I'd see _any_ of you again- not you, not Pyuunma, not-" he broke off, swallowing, "not Francoise," he whispered.

There was a brief silence penetrated only by the distant sounds of their friends within the house, probably preparing dinner. Someone would be out to fetch them soon. Joe took a deep breath.

"I think... if it's not too selfish... I need everyone around right now. Not forever, just..." he swallowed again. ". . . Yeah, maybe forever."

Heaving a long sigh, Jet unfolded his arms and leaned back in his chair, gently running a hand over the bandages on his thigh. Looking up he caught Joe's eye and felt his own features tighten, wondered how tired he must look. "I know," he responded hoarsely. "Listen, Joe-"

"You didn't have to come for me."

"You're right, I didn't."

"You shouldn't have gone up there."

"If I hadn't, you'd be dead."

"You could have _died._ "

"That was part of the point."

Joe gave him a startled look and Jet immediately held up a hand to stop him. "What I _mean_ is that at the time, from _my_ point of view, you were going to die and there was nothing we could do about it. But you didn't deserve to die alone. Nobody does. I didn't want you going through that, and I was the only one who could stop it from happening."

Joe's face twisted in agony, his fists clenched at his sides. "You didn't _have_ t-"

"I _wanted_ to because we're _family_!" Jet snapped. "I _know_ how painful it is to be alone- I know that so _goddamn_ well, Joe! And you _really_ think I was going to let you go through that too?! Again?! It's- it's a miracle we survived. It's an honest to God miracle, but you _have_ to know that I'd make the same damn decision again- any of us would!" He gestured wildly to the house, from which the sounds of chatter had grown suspiciously quiet. "Ideally, we won't have to," he added with a breathless, desperate laugh. "I'm sorry I worried you. I honestly am. And I'm glad you're safe. I'm glad we're _both_ safe. But please don't ask me why I went up there because I'd do it again in a heartbeat and you know it."

In an instant Joe was upon him, wrapping his arms around his back and clutching at his shirt as Jet did the same. "Goddamnit, Jet," he whispered unsteadily. "You're a piece of work, you know that?"

Jet, heart pounding, felt the corners of his eyes prickle. "Says the guy who _repeatedly_ tries to play hero all by himself. I thought going off alone and getting hurt was _my_ job."

He beamed when Joe laughed and pulled back, wiping at his eyes and shaking his head. "You're not wrong there." After a beat, he nodded at Jet. "Want me to wheel you back inside? They're probably almost done."

"Nah, I got it." Jet pushed himself away from the balcony and spun around, glancing at Joe before heading back into the house.

"Can we talk about this more? Not now obviously, but- just... later."

Jet nodded. "Yeah, we can. We should," he said softly. He paused at the entrance, grabbing Joe's hand as he walked past and looking him in the eye.

"I'm glad we're alive, Joe."

A flicker of emotion passed across Joe's face before he gave a faltering, yet genuine smile, squeezing Jet's hand briefly in return. "Me too, Jet."

A wave of noise and warmth greeted them upon entry and all at once they were home.

 

* * *

 

Jet's heart was racing. As he stood on the beach with his toes digging into the warm sand beneath him he felt the synthetic device thumping against his ribcage and for an instant feared it would stop. Letting out a long breath, he ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head. he was being stupid. He was underestimating Gilmore and Kozumi and their tech had never let him down before.

Not for a long time, at least.

Pursing his lips, Jet shifted his weight from side to side, feeling the joints in his knees and ankles rolling smoothly and comfortingly. In a well-practiced motion he lifted his shorts to run a hand over the near-imperceptible seam on his upper thigh, feeling for the switch which would detach the limbs should anything go wrong.

Which it wouldn't, because the new legs would work fine and it was _stupid_ to worry about something dumb like that so he should just bite the bullet and _fly_.

Jet swallowed, inhaling shakily, staring out at the crystalline ocean.

He took a step towards it and hesitated.

He turned back to look at the house.

Eight pairs of encouraging eyes looked back. Huddled around the window, his fellow cyborgs had clearly given up on pretending not to watch him and he felt a rush of affection for them, taking heart in their smiles and turning back around.

Grinning hugely, Jet buried his apprehension and ran for the water, activating his jets and gasping as he felt the familiar rush of intense heat coursing through his body, lifting him over the waves and rapidly through the sky above. Eyes wide, arms out by his sides, Jet laughed openly as he flew through a cloud and the water drenched his hair and clothes, marvelling at the speed with which he moved. Ducking and weaving, he beamed at the sight of the world stretched below him, fear spiking as he fell for a moment and the heat became sinister- before Joe's voice reached him, smooth and calm.

_'We're here for you, Jet.'_

Jet's throat tightened and if not for the wind whipping against his face he was sure it would be wet with tears as he kept speaking.

_'We'll catch you if you fall.'_

Jet snorted, the sound catching in his throat as he spun through the air. _'Comforting.'_

As expected, Joe scrambled to amend himself. _'No- I didn't mean-'_

 _'I know, Joe.'_ Jet smiled, shaking his head though he knew Joe couldn't see. _'I appreciate it.'_

Slowing to a stop, Jet hovered in the air, nervousness climbing again as he took a deep breath.

_'. . . Jet?'_

Jet didn't respond.

_'. . .'_

He closed his eyes, cut off his engines, and let himself fall.

_'. . . Where do you want to land?'_

He wasn't sure yet.

But he knew they'd be waiting for him when he did.

**Author's Note:**

> So fun fact my friend (who got me into this cyborg hell) and I were theorizing as to why Jet done what he did and after much deliberation settled on "he did it because he didn't want Joe to die alone" and then we watched the 1980 movie together- which was mediocre at best but it had some Very good moments- and (spoilers!!) upon hearing of Albert's sacrifice Jet said "why did you die alone?" and wow I may or may not have cried multiple times so there you go.
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for reading! I really enjoyed working on this fic, the ending has had me in tears many times since watching it and I had to give a written tribute to one of the most beautiful and sincerely heartwarming and hilarious shows I've watched in my life.


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